


At It Again?

by spittingfeathers



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, bilbo loves food, dwalin is a man of action, flatmates, higher rating for sexual scenes, it got away from me a bit, nori and bofur are little shits, randy as hell flatmates, thorin is embarassed, was only meant to be a one-shot to fill a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/pseuds/spittingfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At it again?" -- Thorin/Bilbo (M/M) -- Bilbo has been shopping, he's bought frozen foods but he can't get in to put them away because his flatmates are fucking in the hall. Loudly. Cue helpful (reluctant) neighbour Thorin and the day might just turn out ok. Or not…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy :)

Bilbo wondered why Bofur couldn’t go to Nori’s flat once in a while instead of coming over to their place every time they wanted to meet. It was ok if they stayed in Bofur’s room - if you managed to ignore the yells and shouts and rather enthusiastic moaning - but this time it was getting rather out of control. Honestly, a simple text would have done.

 _Hey Bilbo, Nori’s over._  

While it wouldn’t have explained the situation fully, at least Bilbo would have been a bit more prepared. How hard would that have been? Instead, Bilbo had walked in through the front door to find Bofur driving into his boyfriend on the floor in the middle of their narrow hallway, Nori even turned his head to look at Bilbo and winked at him —

“Evenin—ah!”

 _That_ was when Bofur gave a particularly hard thrust. Nori’s eyes rolled upward and his mouth hung open as he gasped.

If Bilbo hadn’t been red in the face before he certainly was now. He almost fell back out the door in his haste to leave, shopping in tow and slammed the door.

“Yavanna give me strength” Bilbo muttered as he slid down the wall, letting his shopping plonk to the floor. He honestly didn’t care if his eggs were broken because Bofur was going to have a lot of grovelling to do after this and he could bloody well buy Bilbo some more!

_What on earth were they doing in the hall? They had a perfectly serviceable bed to use!_

Bilbo thought on it a bit more, pulling out his phone to check his emails and settled down to wait for Bofur to sheepishly let him in. Hopefully they’d both be clothed by then.

An hour came and went and he could still hear giggles, the loud smack of a kiss or long moan and honestly, though he was now becoming rather agitated — he had bought frozen foods! — he had to admire Bofur and Nori’s stamina.

It got to six o’clock (and Bilbo was still sitting on the floor in the hallway) when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible, attempting to not look homeless or desperate as he waited for Nori and Bofur to _finish_ their little love fest.

The man was tall and dark haired wearing a tattered leather jacket, jeans and sturdy boots. Bilbo couldn’t recall seeing him around before, but when he went to Flat 3 Bilbo realised why. _This_ was the elusive Thorin Durin — Dwalin Fundinson’s cousin and flatmate.

Bilbo watched unobtrusively from the side as Thorin (furrowed brow and teeth grinding) plucked a note sticking out of the letterbox.

“Fucking hell!”

And apparently didn’t like it.

Bofur had made friends with everyone in the various flats almost immediately and Bilbo soon after, most won over with the pies and cakes (or cookies in Dwalin’s case) that he’d brought them upon moving in. Dwalin had mentioned that his cousin worked nights and had little social life to speak of but that he would eventually find a way to introduce them.

Well, Bilbo’s randy flatmate and Thorin’s unfortunate note had conspired to make their meeting now.

Bilbo left his shopping, brushed down his clothes and stood, ready to speak when Thorin rushed into the flat, keys jangling and slammed the door.

Oh. Right…well then.

Bilbo blinked, feeling strangely disappointed and sat back down with his slowly de-frosting shopping with a sigh.

“OH NORI!”

Bilbo buried his head in his hands and settled in to wait. It was going to be a long night.

*****

Bilbo’s phone was running low on battery from his constant time-checking, the bright white numbers declaring it 8 o’clock already. He’d wanted to watch that new baking contest and he’d stupidly forgotten to record it. He was just contemplating whether it was worth risking calling Lobelia to come over and watch the show at hers when the door to flat 3 opened up Thorin Durin poked his head out with a frown.

Of course his frown would be directed at Bilbo’s flat - the source of Bilbo’s trouble and numb arse. Then, though sadly he couldn’t be missed, Thorin Durin’s eyes slid to him.

“What are you doing down there?”

What did he _think_ Bilbo was doing on the floor? He was surrounded by bags of shopping a little ways away from the door to his flat. Though Bilbo supposed he could have been locked out but he could have just gone to ask the maintenance man to let him in but—

“I’m enjoying the scenery.” Bilbo responded cheerily, gesturing to the cream coloured walls and bland blue carpet that covered the halls of the flat’s corridor. Thorin didn’t look impressed so Bilbo dropped the cheery expression, looking fed up once more, and pointed toward his closed door where gasps and the occasional bang were heard.

“Are they still going at it?” he sounded surprised.

“Yes,” Bilbo sighed “They’re in the hall and I didn’t want to interrupt—“

“HARDER—FUCK—AH!”

It was perhaps a testament to how often this happened that Bilbo barely broke his stride, his eyes only tipping upwards to the ceiling in silent prayer. “—I couldn’t get to the fridge anyway. I’m quite tempted to change the locks.” Thorin stood in his doorway awkwardly as silence enveloped them. “I’m Bilbo by the way, and you are?”

“Thorin.”

Well, he definitely wasn’t one for small talk. If they hadn’t been neighbours and Thorin so very attractive ( _look at those eyes — strong arms — deep voice — praise Yavanna, he looked like a god_ ) Bilbo might not have worked up the courage to talk to him, hell, they probably wouldn’t have met! But if Bilbo knew anything it was not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I haven’t seen you around before, have you just moved in?” he asked politely, trying to get a conversation going even though he already knew the answer.

“I work nights.”

_That was all he was going to say? Really?_

“Oh. Well.” BIlbo honestly didn’t know what to say next when the door to his flat started to knock against the frame and something was banged (oh Yavanna) repeatedly against the door. Bilbo cringed and Thorin looked a bit wide eyed at the door and then back at Bilbo. “Nori comes over every other day, just not usually this early.” —the bangs increased in frequency and the back of Bilbo’s neck started to sweat— “Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your fridge and freezer for a few hours? I don’t want my stuff to go bad, and from the sound of that they’re not going to be letting up anytime soon. Please?”

“FU—OH MAHAL, RIGHT THERE!”

Face red, Thorin nodded hastily, “Of course, it’s just through here…”

*****

The apartment was nice, if a bit spartan. Basic furniture, brown carpet and all the walls were either cream or white, there were a few photographs scattered about - two young boys, a very large family photo…

Bilbo had just put the last of his shopping in Thorin’s freezer and turned to smile at him. “Thank you ever so much, I really appreciate you letting me do this, I—“ the next few words were abruptly cut off when Thorin pushed his hand over Bilbo’s mouth and dragged him quickly to one of the back rooms.

Bilbo panicked, struggling (with little effect) against the iron grip of his neighbour, and Bilbo had thought he’d gotten out of the habbit but his teeth came down hard on the hand covering his mouth.

“Fu—Mahal wept! What was that for?” Thorin snapped, drawing back his hand and clutching it to his chest, releasing Bilbo who immediately backed away, body tense and ready to flee at any second.

“What the hell are you doing — wait!” Bilbo looked at Thorin with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Did you just lock the door?”

Thorin looked at him as though he’d just grown horns. “Of course I did—Dwalin’s home—” Thorin said, as though that explained everything.

Then, through the door Bilbo could discern voices and almost groaned in frustration at the conversation.

_“I’m goin’ to make you feel so good…”_

_“Really? And just what are you going to do to me Fundinson?”_

_“I’m a man of few words, so I’d rather show ye…”_

_“Oh—ah!”_

“Oh for goodness sake!” BIlbo reached for the handle but Thorin slapped his hand away. “I’m not getting stuck in here until tomorrow!” Bilbo growled, waving his finger in Thorin’s face.

“Shut up or they’ll hear you!” Thorin hissed.

“Of course they’re going to bloody hear me, I’m leaving!”

“You can’t - not yet! We’ve just got to wait until they go into his room and then we can sneak out.”

“Sneak out? This is your bloody apartment too!”

“Then why are you here instead of in your own flat, hmm?” Thorin said smugly, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Bilbo looked at his neighbour unimpressed. “Because my roommate is fucking his lover into the lino in our hall - there is literally no way for me to go around them!” Bilbo griped, struggling for the door handle and trying to push past Thorin but bless and curse Yavanna the man was all muscle. “Then my crazy neighbour had to drag me in here instead of just passing out the door—maybe saying goodbye to Dwalin and making our escape that way—like normal people!” Bilbo stopped his struggle for the lock and stepped back, knowing it was useless. He’d need to catch Thorin by surprise if he was going to get out. He had a review at work tomorrow - he couldn’t wait for their randy flatmates to crawl into bed in the early hours, he had so much to do. “This could be classed as kidnap or assault if you don’t let me go!”

Thorin shook his head, his hands moved to firmly grasp Bilbo by the shoulders. “Its for our own safety! Seriously, you don’t want to go out there till they’re safely in another room! Dwalin doesn’t like to be interrupted. You only do it once, believe me.” Thorin’s tone held notes of experience and while Bilbo didn’t really want to piss Dwalin off or see him in the all together (though he truly did have some impressive muscles) he had no idea whether Dwalin or his partner had the same stamina as Nori and Bofur, Yavanna help him if they did, he’d be here all bloody night.

“So what, we’re just going to stay in here until Dwalin and his _friend_  finally go to their room?” Bilbo huffed gesturing about the room with a wave of his hands.

Thorin looked at him, pleading, lovely blue eyes still in puppy-dog mode. “Yes?”

After an intense staring match, Bilbo scowling and Thorin giving him the most heartbreaking puppy-dog eyes, Bilbo sighed and gave in. “Alright then, I’ll stay here, but as soon as Dwalin and his friend go into their room I’m out of here.”

“And if your roommate’s still fornicating in the corridor?”

Bilbo scowls at Thorin, feeling his face prickle with heat, “Then they’ll wish they hadn’t.”

 _Seriously though, who says ‘fornicating’ anymore?_  

*****

It’s terribly awkward, standing about while Thorin hastily throws all the clothes and papers and empty sweet wrappers into a black sack and tosses it into the corner of the room. Bilbo chews on his bottom lip as Thorin does so, his hands twitching at his sides and he feels so very tempted to take over tell him—not like that! The covers are thrown back to form a rumpled, but made, bed to which Thorin then straightens and shrugs his shoulders, looking almost nervous.

Through the door they can still hear Dwalin and his ‘friend’ there are sounds of kissing and quiet moans and it isn’t long before the sound of springs creaking is added. “Not on the couch…” Thorin had whined under his breath, face scrunching up as he cringed and tried to conceal swiping the dust off one of the side tables and headboard.

Thorin’s hands slap against his sides as he shrugs again, looking around the square room. “Well, this is it then.”

Thorin’s bedroom has cream walls and brown carpets, there is a metal clothes rail in the corner beside the TV on the wall and opposite this is the double bed with low tables either side. There is another door that leads to a bathroom, an ensuite that Bilbo is a little jealous over though he’d much rather have his walk-in wardrobe. Overall, like the rest of the house the room is terribly plain, looking unloved and un-lived in. It is completely different to Bilbo and Bofur’s flat which is filled with pictures and nicknacks and maps and books covering every wall and surface. It is comfortable, warm and homely though seems cluttered in comparison with Thorin and Dwalin’s spartan living space.

“Right.” Bilbo says, suddenly aware that he is alone with his neighbour. His hot neighbour. In his room. Alone. Together.

Shit.

“It’s nice.” Bilbo says lowly, fighting against the blush rising in his cheeks as his voice betrays him with a wobble at the end. “So. What are we going to do for the next hour?”

“Hour?” Thorin says uneasily, he too is speaking barely above a whisper. “Best make it four…”

There is a pause in the noise outside the door and both Bilbo and Thorin still like rabbits, barely brave enough to take a breath lest they anger Dwalin. Bilbo doesn’t know what the man would do but his mind is rather helpful in coming up with suggestions - trips to hospital being the most likely outcome.

 _“Four hours?”_ Bilbo mouths at Thorin when the— _Yavanna have mercy_ — moans become louder he mentally curses every randy flatmate and sends a prayer out for their friends who have to put up with them. It looks like Dwalin has found the communal areas of his flat far more appealing than his bedroom, much like Nori and Bofur. Why can their flatmates simply go have sex somewhere else - like their rooms? Hell, even the bathroom would do, at least you could close the door and only have to listen to them!

Thorin grimaces and mouths “ _sorry_ ” at him which means Bilbo won’t be leaving until after midnight. Great.

*****

_“No—“_

_“I’m not sitting here in silence—“_

_“He’ll hear it!”_

_“No he wont—“_

In a surprising show of strength Bilbo manages to wrest the TV remote from Thorin’s hands, accidentally turning Thorin’s flatscreen on. The welcome screen and turn-on click from the device means a mad scramble for the remote in a race to press the mute button. Bilbo is sure he will have bruises.

When the TV turns on without a sound there is a collective sigh of relief ending with a glare from Thorin and a smug look from Bilbo who holds the control out of Thorin’s reach and begins to flick through the channels.

His gasp of excitement is too loud when he discovers Thorin’s TV has a catch-up option. Perhaps he won’t miss his cooking programme after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur's not the only flatmate meeting with his lover, Thorin panics (often) and Bilbo's more than a little bold...

It was a bad idea to turn on the TV. It was a bad idea to let his neighbour, Bilbo Baggins, have the remote. It was probably _the worst idea he’d ever had_ to invite his neighbour in and let him use his freezer.

Had he not invited Bilbo in he would not be trapped in his room (far too messy to be having company). He would not be laying next to this attractive man listening to his low whispers about cooking while the subtitles played for him to read. He would also not be currently sporting the most embarrassing hard-on known to man.

Thorin’s delicate _state_ was all down to a certain neighbour who had switched to a cooking programme almost immediately and was currently describing () the way the foods were cooked, prepared and how they would taste. Thorin liked food, sure, but Bilbo loved it. Which was clearly shown when he moaned about how pastry would melt in his mouth and how fruits would burst and simmer and heat, and _Mahal’s great forges_ , if Thorin was not turned on. Added to the way Bilbo now spoke in a low breathy voice in his ear and shuffled closer every now and then so he could be heard without alerting Dwalin that there were more than just him and Ori in the flat. Well, Thorin was lost.

Dwalin and Ori met as often as they could, usually in their flat because of Ori’s overbearing older brothers, and Dwalin usually sent him a text or left him a note if he could remember. The arrangement was, usually, that Thorin would receive the message and make himself scarce - if he wasn’t working already. Now, this time, he had intended to spend some time at the flat, but leave just before Dwalin would be arriving home. Thorin had planned on going to visit Dis, Vili and the boys, but of course then he’d had to help Bilbo put his shopping away in his freezer and Dwalin had come home just as they’d finished leaving them with no time to sneak out. While Ori loved Dwalin, he really was very shy and didn’t like an audience — hence why Thorin made himself scarce.

Dragging Bilbo into his bedroom had perhaps not been one of his smarter ideas, but at least there was a bathroom (a secret stash of snacks in one of his drawers) and there was a comfy bed to lay on and watch TV. But hey, at least they hadn’t been stuck in the study (attached to both the lounge and Dwalin’s bedroom). Or the other bathroom. The cloakroom. Dwalin’s bedroom…well, it _definitely_ could have been worse.

“…Oh Yavanna the syrup was to die for, seriously, I’ll have to show you some time…” Bilbo’s eyes were half lidded as his tongue slid across his dry lips.

Never mind dry lips, Thorin’s whole mouth felt drier than a desert.

He’d sat through almost an hour of torture, neither the programme nor Bilbo showing any signs of stopping, and Thorin was beginning to wish his petite neighbour was moaning on his bed for another reason. The images playing through his mind made his breath catch and sweat bead on the back of his neck. He barely held back a moan when Bilbo described the best steak he’d ever eaten.

“I’d ordered it Blue, and it was so tender it fell apart in my mouth…” Bilbo’s voice was barely a whisper against his cheek, his warm breath curling against the rough stubble of his short beard making goosebumps travel down his neck and arms.

It was like a new form of torture. Clearly the Valar were conspiring against him, sending him Bilbo Baggins as a way to get back at him for past sins and grudges—

Suddenly the door handle to Thorin’s room rattled as someone fumbled for the handle.

Both Bilbo and Thorin freeze and he wishes he’d kept the door locked (even though Bilbo had demanded it).

The door swings open, hitting the wall with a bang and Dwalin appears, naked as the day he was born and clutching at a partially dressed Ori who has wrapped himself around Thorin’s cousin like a vine, kissing each other fervently.

It is definitely more than Thorin had wanted to see.

He’s also a little angry (feeling rather sick actually) that Dwalin and Ori have come into his room, thinking he isn’t there with less than pure intentions (obviously). Have they done this before—oh Mahal—definitely not the time to think about this!

In a moment of panic, of which he seems to be doing a lot today, Thorin throws himself over Bilbo and hitches his neighbours legs around his waist, desperately hoping Bilbo can’t _feel him_ and begging Bilbo to play along with his eyes.

Bilbo lets out a gasp, it’s a little late, as he takes in what’s just happened and Thorin sees Dwalin and Ori still from the corner of his eye. What he doesn’t expect is to be hauled down into a kiss that is more painful than pleasurable.

Dwalin’s exclamation of “ _Shit shit shit_ ” is music to his ears and Ori’s soft “ _Quick—go!_ ” is laughable really, but Bilbo is staring straight into his eyes and at some point their mashing of lips turns into a real kiss. Though it’s very forward, a little strange, and his heart is beating faster than ever before, there seems to be nothing more natural in the world than to slip his arms beneath Bilbo and press them chest to chest, humming when his Bilbo’s hands brush against his jaw and card through his hair.

*****

“They’re gone now you know.” Thorin says quietly, the only sound they can hear are the huffs of their breaths. Dwalin and Ori have finally retired to their room leaving the lounge, hallway and front door free of amorous lovers. Which now means Bilbo is safe to leave and return to his own flat.

“I should go.” Bilbo murmurs though it sounds like he doesn’t believe his own words, lying still beneath Thorin, legs still around his waist while Thorin hovers close over him.

“If you like.” Thorin says, watching Bilbo’s eyes track the path of his Adams Apple as he swallows. Bilbo’s mouth twitches a smile and Thorin is suddenly aware that he desperately doesn’t want him to leave. Perhaps he could suggest Bilbo stay a bit longer to make the ruse more believable? Maybe watch another cooking programme before seeing whether Bilbo would be amenable to some more kissing?

Bilbo sits up and Thorin leans back so he’s sitting on his heels, feeling disappointment begin to settle uncomfortably in his gut. He looks down and completely misses the look of consideration on his neighbour’s face.

The first inkling Thorin gets that he’s not so rejected as he thought is the feeling of Bilbo’s arms wrapping around his neck and the wonderful pressure of someone sitting in his lap.

Thorin looks up, startled, barely daring to hope that perhaps this man, very attractive and interesting man, would like to stay a little longer.

“I’m sorry” Bilbo says quietly, an amused and hopeful smile on his face, “but I forgot to mention that Nori and Bofur’s ‘after-sex’ vibe is really much worse than listening to them. If it doesn’t inconvenience you too much, and you would wouldn’t mind, I would quite like to stay a little longer.”

As Thorin opens his mouth to speak Bilbo shifts on his lap, brushing against the bulge in Thorin’s jeans and he has to bite down on his cheeks to stop the rather embarrassing moan from breaking free.

“That’s fine—“ Thorin croaks eventually, his face heating at the playful smirk on Bilbo’s lips.

“Good…” Bilbo hums, leaning forward slowly, watching Thorin’s face carefully for any sign of rejection through half-lidded eyes.

Thorin gives none, makes _sure_ he gives none, and slides his hands along Bilbo’s knees to his hips and gently squeezes the soft curves in his hands with a muted groan. As Bilbo’s lips finally meet his own, Thorin can feel him smile into the kiss, and he knows he’s doomed.

They stay like that for some minutes, eyes closed, lips moving slowly against each other in a wonderful rhythm. There are only a few clicks of teeth and bumping noses, figuring out what works and what doesn’t, pausing for breath every now and then with a bashful look (Thorin) and a delightfully heated one (Bilbo).

Bilbo loves the way Thorin’s chest rumbles (it’s almost a purr!) when he drags his fingers through Thorin’s dark hair, running his fingertips against his scalp. Similarly Thorin enjoys the way Bilbo hums and lets out soft little sighs when he’s pleased, particularly when Thorin slides his hands under Bilbo’s shirt to map the soft curve of his spine.

It’s difficult to say how long they kiss, it’s all quite innocent really. Well, that is until Bilbo gets that gleam in his eye and rocks forward against him.

At the sound of Thorin’s strangled curse Bilbo giggles. Thorin who is desperately trying not to release like a green boy with his first partner, grits his teeth and breathes harshly to try and contain himself. Honestly, he’s barely known the man more than a few hours and here they are kissing—Bilbo being bold enough to do _that_ —and nothing should really feel this good when they are practically strangers! Thorin gives Bilbo a half hearted glare, the smaller man smiling innocently back at him has no idea of what he’s about to do until it’s too late.

Thorin is barely able to contain his own laughter as he pushes Bilbo onto his back and begins to tickle his sides mercilessly, the man laughing and gasping and writhing around in a poorly coordinated attempt to get away.

“S-stop Thorin!” Bilbo gasps, and this time he does, grinning like an idiot and Bilbo thinks there’s no sight he’s ever seen that is better than this. There’s tears in his eyes and his sides hurt from laughing so much, and he’s already planning what special meal he can make Bofur and Nori as a thank-you, when Thorin smirks at him and starts kissing down his neck and— _oh_ —he’ll have time to think about that later…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, chapter 2 is up!  
> Chapter 3 will be a sort of epilogue to wrap it all up (and left open ended just in case I decide to come back to it later ;D)


	3. Chapter 3

When they emerge from Thorin’s room, rumpled and blushing and sneaking glances at the other only to grin like besotted idiots already, they barely notice there is only silence coming from Dwalin’s room. Thorin diligently helps Bilbo repack his shopping, carrying half for him when they leave Flat 3. Bilbo has seen a few frowns and glares from Thorin tonight but the way that Thorin insists on walking him to the door of his flat, barely ten feet away, means Bilbo will firmly label him in the category ‘softie’ forever.

“Can I—,” Thorin coughs and shuffles his feet against the cheap carpet looking nervous, and Bilbo thinks, thoroughly adorable. “Can I see you again?” he asks, which is immediately followed by some rather nervous rambling. “If you’d like that is. I mean, I’d like to…”

That really is a silly question.

Bilbo smiles and lowers his shopping to the ground, practically standing toe to toe with Thorin and looks up. “I suspect we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other being neighbours and all.” he says smartly, carefully watching Thorin’s expression, “but here’s my number all the same.” Bilbo reaches into Thorin’s pocket with a wink and texts himself from his phone before he adds his number to the contacts. Thorin takes the phone, his fingers brushing against Bilbo’s and neither really want to let go. “Perhaps we could go for a coffee sometime, when you’re free…?”

Thorin smiles back. “I’ll do that.”

Bilbo gets one last, lingering kiss from Thorin that makes his toes curl in his shoes before he grabs his shopping and slips into his apartment (the hall now free of Bofur and Nori). He closes the door, watching through the peephole as Thorin grins to himself and runs a hand through his hair. His walk has a little skip to it as he returns to his own flat and lets himself in, grinning all the while.

Bilbo leans back against the door with a (dreamy) sigh and stupid grin, thinking about how the past several hours were spent kissing and touching his gorgeous, muscled neighbour who, it seems, would very much like to see him again.

Footsteps sound from the direction of their lounge and Bofur appears dressed in his customary patched pyjamas. “Hi, Bilbo…” he says sheepishly, preparing himself for the dressing down of his life he’s sure…

“Bofur!” Bilbo exclaims with a bright smile, fairly bouncing toward his flatmate, gripping him by the tops of his arms and beaming, the weight of his shopping bags barely noticed in the wake of giddiness he feels.

Bofur is frozen stiff staring wide eyed at his friend. It was definitely not the reaction he’d been expecting. 

“I Love you!” Bilbo tells him sincerely.

Bofur blinks once. Twice. before looking very, very worried. “Are you alright Bilbo?” he asks, taking Bilbo’s shopping from him.

“Fantastic! Absolutely spiffing—“

“I hope you’re not trying to poach my boyfriend Bilbo—“

“Nori!” 

Nori’s reaction is much more severe than Bofur’s had been, looking wild eyed and scuttling back, just a tad too slow to avoid the surprisingly strong hug from Bilbo.

“I love you Nori — I love you both!”

Nori too looked worried, putting his hands on Bilbo’s shoulders and looking straight into his eyes. “Bilbo…you didn’t accept the brownies from the man in flat 6 did you? I know they smell good but they’re really not what they seem…”

Bilbo laughs at their worried expressions, suddenly buzzing with energy when really he should be sleeping in preparation for tomorrow’s review at work. “Are you hungry? I’m going to cook something—” Nori and Bofur press themselves to the wall as he hurries past, heading toward the kitchen where he begins to unpack and fetch out the proper ingredients and cooking utensils.

While he pulls out pots and pans and plates Bofur and Nori unpack his shopping for him (too right!), watching him worriedly all the while.

“Pancakes will do nicely I think…”

Bofur sidles over to the cooker with his ingredients which Bilbo takes gratefully. Honestly, can he not be happy without them thinking there’s something wrong with him - or that he’s accepted one of Radagast’s dubious offerings.

“Bilbo, it’s almost one in the morning.” Bofur says.

“Is it really?” he replies surprised, he’d usually be dead on his feet by now or sleeping. “Well I haven’t had any dinner yet, have you?” he mixes up the ingredients with surprising speed and efficiency, heating the pan and oil on the stove while Bofur and Nori set the table with sugar, orange juice and lemon.

“Actually we had pizza a couple of hours ago but…wait — what’s that on your neck?”

His neck? What’s wrong with his neck?

“That’s a hickey!”

Oh

“A what? How’d you get one of those?!”

Well Thorin had something to do with that I should think, I hope I don’t have beard burn too badly…

“I can show you if you like, Bofur—“

“Shhh, this is serious! Bilbo—“

Bilbo completely ignores all their questions, spluttering and speculation about where he’s been and who he’s been with, and continues making his pancakes happily humming under his breath. He obviously hadn’t realised how hungry he was - perhaps because he had been occupied with other things, wonderfully so — and when they’re done he practically inhales the stack of pancakes he’s made, Nori and Bofur only having one or two each when he insisted. 

Unfortunately Bilbo’s fatigue hits him almost immediately when he’s finished, eyes drooping and pleasantly full from his late night pancake dinner. He goes to wash up but Nori and Bofur send him off to bed and do it for him. 

Once he’s struggled out of his clothes and set his alarm for the morning, Bilbo’s phone buzzes from his bedside table. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he reaches for it.

Hi Bilbo,  
About that coffee, are you free Friday at 6?  
Thorin

He replies quickly, not caring at all about seeming too eager, feeling like a teenager with his first crush even though he’s almost twenty five and Thorin would be far from his first.

Hey,  
I am :)  
See you then!  
BIlbo

******

Though he’s tired the next morning, his review turns out well. His employers are impressed with his positive attitude and enthusiasm, though really it’s down to Thorin and not his actual job, and he leaves work that day with a bounce in his step.

The rest of the week seems to fly by, his friends and relatives often commenting on his good mood which he avoids explaining rather well—he wouldn’t want to jinx it. Soon enough it’s Friday night and his good mood all but gone. Instead his stomach is tying itself in knots and he feels like he can barely drink a glass of water, let alone a coffee. What if Thorin doesn’t turn up? What if he’s changed his mind? What if—

The knock on the door seems to shoot straight through him and before Bofur or Nori can even make a move to leave their nest of blankets on the couch, Bilbo’s already up like a shot and hurrying down the hall, shouting “I’ll get it!” over his shoulder.

Bilbo peers out the peep hole and…yes, it’s Thorin. The stiff set of his shoulders relaxes and he can feel some of his good mood he’d had yesterday (and every day since he and Thorin had kissed) return. Looking gorgeous in leather jacket and jeans and completely adorable when he runs a hand through his hair, Bilbo calls out goodbyes to Nori and Bofur and slips out the door.

“Hi.”

 Wow Bilbo, surely you could have come up with something better than that? 

Thorin smiles a little shyly, “Hey. It’s good to see you.” and bless Yavannah his voice…

“You too,” It’s rather embarrassing how breathy Bilbo’s answer sounds in comparison to Thorin’s. A blush makes itself at home on his face and usually it would never be so bad but there’s just something about Thorin that makes him—oh.

Well that’s much nicer.

Bilbo rests back against the door as Thorin kisses him. It’s better than he remembered. His hands splay out on Thorin’s broad chest before sliding up to his strong shoulders and creep into his soft hair, fingertips gently brushing against his scalp and Thorin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum and dear Yavanna, Bilbo is lost.

“Lovely,” Bilbo sighs when they break away and Thorin smiles down at him, his grin a little wider. “C’mon, lets go get that coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe I wasn't brave enough to write the smut but you never know I might come back to this...(Ok so I'll definitely be coming back to this, but it's going to be marked as finished until I have time to pick it back up again)
> 
> There's definitely opportunities for more chapters of the fic though there's other bilbo/thorin AUs that are demanding my attention (the list is about 3 pages long already)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented, subbed, left kudos or bookmarked this fic, it really means a lot :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on Tumblr as 'fatynthemachine' come chat with me :)


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